The Partners on the Karaoke Stage
by LordLanceahlot
Summary: Alternate end of Wannabe in the Weeds. When Brennan gets on the stage to karaoke, she forgets one tiny, microscopic problem. She's always had a terrible case of stage fright. What's Booth going to do when his partner freezes up?


Dr. Temperance Brennan was going to murder her partner until even her team of the world's best and brightest wouldn't be able to identify his remains.

A wide smile split Seeley Booth's face as he gazed at her on the stage of the Chatter Box, his eyes warm and adoring, totally unaware of her panicked, murderous intent. The piano, loosening the familiar notes from the depths of its mechanism, filled the air around her with sound. She was hyper aware that she had about four second before the note she was supposed to chime in on would hit.

She hadn't lied to Booth and Sweets. Her mother really had told her that she was heads and shoulders above Cyndi Lauper in talent, and she firmly did believe her. But singing into a wooden spoon in front of an audience of consisting of solely her mother was quite a bit different than belting out the lyrics into a real, live microphone in front of the entire clientele of a karaoke bar.

She had never told anyone, especially Booth, that she had, to quote her and Booth's psychiatrist, "a wicked case of stage fright." As Brennan stared out at the sea of milling people and squinted into the harsh lights, she wasn't quite sure how she had gotten on stage. There was that moment where Booth had grinned at her, and she found herself beaming back, and then there was Sweets, and then only Booth, his strong hands resting on her back, shoving her gently up the side stairs.

The blood rushed through her veins as her heart beat faster, her breath coming in shorter, quicker bursts. Hot air from the lights above her baked the top of her head, and she could hear her gasps echoing in the microphone she had pressed to her lips.

The pianist struck the note she had dreaded, and the cheerful melody hung in the air around her, persistently demanding accompaniment. She licked her lips, her eyesight blurring with disorientation and the lightest sheen of frustrated tears.

"I come home," she whispered into the microphone. A grimace. Somehow her brain's message to sing tunefully had gotten lost on the way to her mouth. The murmur of the white noise in the club had died down at her pitiful attempt at song, and Brennan was faced with a sea of curious faces.

It wasn't often that anyone came onstage at the Chatter Box with less than a hundred and ten percent confidence, and the normal crowd hid smiles behind their glasses. The pianist behind her paused, and then redid the few notes.

"I come home," she tried again, horror crisscrossing through the veins in her body. The words were terribly loud this time, and her voice cracked on the first note. A few of the regulars snorted into their drinks, and the sound reached her. Hot embarrassment flooded through her body, and for the first time, her gaze connected with Booth's.

He was tense in his chair, his jaw tight and his eyes liquid with worry. They held the eye contact for what felt like an eternity, long enough for Brennan to register the determination that started to build there.

"--in the morning light." Brennan started at the voice, which was certainly not hers. Realization dawned on her just seconds later when she recognized that hardly-wonderful baritone. "My mother says 'when you gonna live your life right?'"

Booth had jogged up the stairs now, raising his eyebrows at her in a look before taking the mic from her bloodless fingertips. The atrocious singing was now magnified for everyone in the club to hear. "Oh, Mama dear, we're not the fortunate ones, but girls, they want to have fun. Oh, girls just wanna have fun," he sang, terribly off key.

The silence that had reigned during the first few moments of her disastrous start had broken into hysterical laughter, but Booth merely gave the crowd his best charm smile and forged on.

Brennan gaped at her partner, her wild gaze flitting from him to the stunned faces of their coworkers with the speed of a neurotic hummingbird. His face was red, but he kept on a smile, rocking out to an imaginary guitar during the pause between lyrics.

Suddenly his hands had found hers, and he yanked her close, staring into her eyes as he sang. "The phone rings, in the middle of the night," he spun her away from him, and a startled laugh burst from her lips. "My father yells, 'What you gonna do with your life?'" At the question, he fell to his knees before her, his face screwed up in concentration as he jammed out to the song. It was Foreigner in her living room all over again, and the next words jumped from her lips before she could snatch them back.

"Oh, Daddy dear, you know you're still number one, but girls, they wanna have fun. Oh, girls just wanna have fun." She reached out a hand to help him up and he took it, supporting most of his weight with his thighs as he leapt up. For a moment Booth gave her a rueful smile, an almost bashful look stealing across his face as their eyes met, and then it was gone, his cocky, self-assured grin firmly in place when he faced the crowd.

"They just wanna, they just wanna, ooooh," he held out the mic to her, waiting for her to finish the line. With the microphone shoved in her face, she froze, and he frowned before yanking it back and finishing the line himself.

"Ooh girls," he sang. He tried again, pushing the microphone toward her. "Just you and me, Bones," he said softly, "Hot-blooded, right?"

After a deep breath, Brennan nodded, her eyes shining and causing his damn heart to thump erratically.

"Girls just want to have fun." Temperance Brennan finished the line, her voice clear as cool water, showing up his performance almost painfully. Her blue eyes glittered with new excitement, and the red staining her cheeks had changed to a healthy flush of vitality and adrenaline.

A raucous cheer broke out on the floor, spearheaded by a certain squint squad and psychiatrist.

Booth stumbled over the next few lines, clearly unsure of what came after the first twenty or so, "just wanna have fun" stanzas, but Brennan now held firm control of the situation. They finished the song together, the most awkward rendition of "Girls Just Want to Have Fun," any person in the club had ever heard. There were a few jeers when they finished, but they were overshadowed by the cheers from the front row, and the few brave souls who yelled for an encore.

Booth shook his head in a violent "no," extending his hand for his partner to grab. She took it, unable to keep the wide smile off her face as her led her off the stage.

When the partners collapsed in their chairs, their squints dove on them, cheering.

The smile slid off Booth's face as he surveyed them all stonily. "Any word of that performance ever leaves this room, and I will personally shoot you so many times there won't be anything left."

Hodgins ignored him, slapping him on the back and laughing. "I'm buying you a drink, man. You deserve it."

Brennan was facing away from her partner, engulfed in a bear hug from her best friend.

"Sweetie, you two were so very Sonny and Cher," she squealed, ignoring the shushes from behind her.

"I don't know what that means," Brennan said helplessly, still trapped by the artist's hug. "But I found that experience to have stimulated large quantities of my adrenaline. I think it was, what some people refer to as a rush."

"Hell yeah, your knight in standard-issue FBI body armor totally saved the day," Angela replied, pulling back from the hug and lowering her voice.

Brennan nodded furiously, adamant about Booth getting his credit. "Yes, it would seem he has a natural craving for the spotlight."

Angela's grin faded for a second before her laughter erupted. "Sweetie, for someone with an IQ in the stratosphere, you can be completely dense about your own partner."

"What are you talking about, Ange?"

"Bren, it's totally obvious to anyone that Booth hated every minute on that stage. He's the worst singer I've ever heard and he sure as hell knows it," Angela said, a hint of disbelief still lingering on her face. "He did that all for you. All that hamming up? You said it yourself, Booth hates the guys who do things like that. He just wanted to make you more comfortable." Angela paused, making sure her friend was listening to her. Brennan was, her eyes widened slightly as her hand gripped her glass. "Who's going to laugh at you when he's being so ridiculous, Brennan?"

"But surely he simply wasn't aware of the comical nature of his admittedly absurd dance mo--"

Angela cut her off, her face serious now.

"No, Brennan. He was aware. He knew exactly how terrible he looked up there, singing that song. That dance he did? That _voice?_ Brennan, sweetie, you looked brilliant on stage next to him. Every single person in this room was laughing at Booth and he damn well knew it. He planned it. Because then, no one would be laughing at you."

Brennan blinked, turning away from Angela to get a better look at Booth. He was sitting in his chair, Hodgins' untouched drink in front of him as he stared straight ahead. The back of his neck looked a little flushed, and his jaw was tense again.

After a few moments, however, he felt her eyes watching her and he gave her a small smile.

"Thank you," she mouthed to him, her gaze restlessly scanning over every inch of his face.

He nodded, and then turned to face forward again, steadfastly ignoring Sweets as he chattered beside him. After watching him for another minute, Brennan nodded and turned forward herself, her brain already whirring with Angela's words.

After the last act had gone on stage, Brennan quietly stood and moved toward her partner. He took her outstretched hand, a quizzical expression crossing his face at her solemnity. Trying to ignore the fact that he was as hyperaware of her hand in his as he had been in the sixth grade, when the gorgeous Julie Landry had first held his hand, Booth followed as Brennan weaved through the throngs.

They had just made it to the exit when two blondes stumbled up, obviously smashed.

"Hey good-looking," the one on the left slurred, her friend's high pitched giggles accompanying the invitation. "You wanna—wanna come, wanna come sit?"

About to tactfully decline, he froze when he felt Brennan's hand tense in his.

"No he doesn't," she replied for him, giving his hand a yank.

"Ow, Bones," he whimpered at the tug, earning unplanned smiles from the two women watching him.

"You see, he wants to come with us," the one on the left exclaimed gleefully, giving Brennan a triumphant stare.

Hoping to avoid having his arm ripped from its socket, Booth answered before his possessive partner could. "No, I'm sorry ladies," he said gently. "I'm just leaving now."

The women now turned their death stares on him, and Brennan squeezed his hand in encouragement. _What the hell? _

One woman jabbed her friend in the ribcage with her elbow. "Oh God, Laurie, this is the gay one."

Having turned to leave, Booth froze, spinning back to face the two of them. "_Gay_? I am not gay!" He turned to Bones, an endearingly upset look on his face, and then faced the women again. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"_Hello? _Singing 'Girls Just Want to Have Fun?'" one blonde noted, giving a snort. The other's eyes widened as if seeing him for the first time.

"You're _that _guy? God, you look so normal when you're down here." She swayed a little and then snickered. "Guess I'm drunker than I thought."

"I'm no--" Booth's protest broke off with a strangled cry when Brennan slipped a hand around his waist and zeroed in to the fly of his pants. "_Bones! What are you doing?!"_

Had his voice really just cracked on that last word? Yes, it had. And WHAT was she doing?!

Her fingers brushed the front of his jeans, rubbing for a second. Booth froze, his mind screaming at his lower extremities to stay put, to… stay… put.

_Damn!_

"You see my partner has an erection from very little stimulation from a _woman_," Bones was explaining methodically as she continued to perform her little public indecency stint. By the time his hand finally responded to his order to pull her fingers away, his jeans were unbearably tight.

"Bones!" he gasped, his face flushed with embarrassment.

"It's obvious that he's not homosexual, though he is quite homophobic. There have been many recorded cases where those who act the most homophobic are actually gay themselves. It's a simple, although antiquated method of defense. Objectively, however, I would simply say that while Booth is homophobic, he is not actually homosexual."

The two women were staring at them; well, one was staring at Brennan, obviously not following a thing, and the other was staring at Booth's erection.

"Impressive," she murmured. "Come with us?"

"There is no way in purgatory that my partner is going with you," Bones said emphatically, glaring at the two interlopers. "Right, Booth?"

"Hell, Bones," he sighed, running his fingers though his hair. "No way in hell. Why would the expression be no way in purgatory?"

She opened her mouth to refute him, and he merely groaned, shaking her hand off his shoulder and heading toward the exit. She appeared beside him a few moments later, concern creasing her forehead.

"Booth?" she hesitated. Her partner was slumped against the wall of the alley next to the Chatter Box, his eyes shut. A quick glance down revealed that his erection had subsided slightly, but she could still see the outline of him through his jeans.

"Booth?" she tried again, bringing her hand up to rest tentatively on his shoulder.

He shuddered at her touch, shaking off his hand as effectively as a horse swatting a fly. "Don't. Just don't, Bones."

"What? Are you still upset that those women thought you were gay?" A thought came to her, and she frowned, an unfamiliar stab of pain piercing her chest. "Did you want to go with them?"

"What? No, of course not. But, jeez, Brennan," he said, his voice tense. "I can't believe you'd take advantage of the way I feel about you to prove your anthropological point."

"The way you feel," she trailed off, the stressed look on his face cutting off the rest of her question.

"You damn well know how I feel about you," he finally exploded, turning away, as if he couldn't bear to look at her. "You barely touched me, but you knew you'd get a response, huh? How was that for you, Bones? Feeling me up in a club, just so you can prove a point? Was it a thrill, or did I disappoint?"

His words were sending her heart hammering, and she frantically grabbed his arm to spin him around to face her. "What are you talking about? I brought you out here to thank you. You saved me up there!"

"I'm glad," he said tightly.

"What's the matter with you?! Why are you being like this? I apologize, I forgot about how you feel about sexual topics in public," she began, her tone vacillating between conciliatory and exasperated. "But I would have thought you'd enjoy showing off your sexual prowess. You're quite the paradox, Booth. You shy away from the topic of sex, yet you love to brag about it. How does that even work?"

He stared at her in utter frustration, but his anger seemed to have leached from him. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and turned away. "Forget it, Bones."

He started to walk off, but Brennan marched behind him and yanked on his arm until he turned to face her. "Oh no you don't. We're not finished here, Booth. I… appreciate how humiliating going up there was for you. But I am grateful, you really saved me, partner," she said softly, resting her hand on his jacket.

He could feel his tough exterior melting with the softness of her touch and in her eyes.

_Damn it, Seeley. Man up! Don't let her wide-eyed gaze ensnare y—_

He cut off his inner voice and waited for his partner to finish.

"You would have done fine," he said hoarsely.

She smiled at him, an honest to God smile, and the tension sapped from his body. "We both know that's not true, Booth," she whispered. "But I wanted to thank you sincerely all the same."

Booth let out an inward groan and held out his arms. "Guy hug?" he said softly, willing her to accept the gesture he needed.

"Sure," she breathed, the air ruffling the short hairs at the nape of his neck. His embrace chased away the last dredges of embarrassment and fear. She felt… contentment.

And like an armada of butterflies had taken her stomach as refuge.

"I still don't understand what you meant about taking advantage of the way you feel," Bones said into his shoulder. "Do you mean your ability to be sexually stimulated by brief con—Mppgh!"

Brennan let out an outraged snarl into his shirt when he pressed her mouth into his shoulder to shut her up. She struggled, but it only made his smile widen.

"Going to scream kidnap again, Bones?"

"Mmphh."

"I know."

"Gpphmgng."

Booth sighed, patting her back with one hand and keeping her face pressed to his shoulder and muffled with the other. "Definitely, Bones." He could almost feel her death stare blazing into him.

After a few more moments of blissful silence free from references to Booth's erection or sexual prowess, Booth let up the gentle pressure of his hand on her head.

"Ready to play nice, Bones?" he said, tilting his head back to get a good look in her eyes.

She stared balefully at him, a pout beginning to form.

"Did you practice that?" he asked, his cursed heart speeding up a little bit and his mind irrationally trying to soothe away her problems. The problems he had caused. God, he was turned on by her mock-pout. He'd never last a second if she actually let loose of those famous Brennan defenses and shed actual tears in front of him.

"Maybe."

At the guileless look on her face, Booth couldn't stop the laugh that built and rumbled through his chest. At his chuckle, she smiled, turning into his shoulder completely of her own will.

"Thanks, Booth."

Releasing a sigh as his laughter calmed, he leaned his head down, her silky hair tickling his nose. "I know."

* * *

Hope you guys enjoyed that. It's just a small little piece that's been wandering lost in my head since the episode aired. I would have had it up sooner, but my computer has been in the shop for an entire month (and what a torturous month it was!) That's why I haven't been around to leave reviews for the fabulous stories and updates beind posted! I've been reading new chapters on my tiny iTouch screen. Anyway, I have an actual major story in the works as we speak. I used the time without internet to work out the plot and I've been typing away. :) It should be up within the next couple of weeks. Please let me know what you think about this! It was meant as a fun "what-if?"

-Laura


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